


Not Even for You

by therealfroggy



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 10:14:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/therealfroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some things BA just won't do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Even for You

Murdock was sulking. He really was. Like a teenage girl who was upset about something, he was sitting by himself at the bar, glaring into his virgin daiquiri as if daring anyone to try and make him feel better. Great. Sulking, crazy Murdock. As if happy, crazy Murdock wasn't bad enough.

BA sighed and got up, deciding if Face and Hannibal weren't going to cheer the crazy fool up, then someone else had to do it. Otherwise they'd just have another ammonia incident on their hands.

“Murdock. What's up with that long face, fool? Mission worked out good, we all alive, even got paid... What's eating you?” BA growled, sitting down next to the pilot.

Who sniffed delicately and turned away. “I wouldn't expect a brute like you to understand.”

Oh, great. The Southern belle act today, was it? BA hated when Murdock pretended to be a member of Louisiana high society a hundred years back. A female member, at that.

“Tell me, fool, or I'm gonna break your arm.”

Murdock sighed dramatically, and gazed sorrowfully into his drink. “You told Hannibal you'd fly with another pilot.”

BA snorted. “So? I ain't getting on no plane anyway, so who cares?”

“You'd fly with another pilot, but not with me? After I saved you, coming in with air support, all those times?” Murdock wailed, turning that sorrowful gaze on BA and really working the guilt trip.

“Yeah, I said I'd fly with another pilot, in a big, commercial airplane. What do you care, fool?”

Murdock's lip quivered, and BA was deeply disturbed to actually see moisture gather in the other man's eyes. Murdock was crying into a girly drink in a low-end bar, and BA didn't even know why the fool was acting all strange.

“You don't love me,” Murdock said. His voice quivered and died with a little sob. Then he turned away and slid off his barstool, making a dash for the men's room.

“Aaw, great,” BA muttered, following the crazy man. _Here we go again..._

Men didn't run off to cry in the rest rooms, but Murdock obviously hadn't gotten that particular memo because when BA got there, Murdock was pressing a handkerchief to his eyes and obviously sobbing into the white fabric.

“Murdock, hey, what's the matter with you?” BA demanded, striding over to his team mate and pushing his chin up so their eyes could meet. “Did you take too many pills again?”

Murdock sniffled, turning those waterworks on BA and even though the bigger man hated to admit it, he just couldn't stand seeing Murdock cry. It did something to him, and whatever it was, it didn't feel great.

“This really about what I told Hannibal about flying?” BA asked. He glared down at Murdock. “I don't get you, man. What do you care who I fly with?”

Murdock's eyes locked onto BA's for a long moment, and then the pilot seemed to quiver in misery and looked down. “But flyin's the only thing I'm good at, Bosco.”

Oh, great. Yeah, now he'd really done it, BA thought.

“Murdock...”

“Hannibal does the planning,” Murdock insisted. “Face gets things. You drive and you fix things. Me? I fly things. That's all I ever do. You guys get me out of the wack shack to fly stuff, and that's all I'm good for, and then you won't even fly with me. I ain't no use to you, Bosco!”

Fantastic. Teenage angst fest, anyone?

“Murdock, you know that ain't true,” BA began, trying to soothe the other man.

“It is, too!” the pilot wailed. “You've never wanted to fly with me, and I thought it was just 'cause you hated flying, but you just don't want to fly with _me_!”

BA growled impatiently. He was so not good at this!

“Murdock, you're... Alright, I'm sorry! I won't ever fly with anyone else, either.”

“But you're so useful and I'm just this nut you've got tagging along,” Murdock said plaintively. “You don't even like me.”

“Now, you _know_ that's a lie, fool,” BA said angrily. “You know I... I don't really wanna break your arms, that's just stuff I say.”

“But you said you'd fly with someone else,” Murdock repeated. His voice was thin and he was tugging at his earlobe. Not good, definitely not good. “Just not with me.”

BA had to turn and punch the wall just to let out some aggression. “Listen, fool! I lied, okay? I said I was gonna fly with someone else, but I didn't wanna. I don't fly, period. Don't matter to me if it's you or if it's fucking Pan-American; I don't get on airplanes. And I _do_ like you, so shut your mouth about it.”

“Hey, BA, your hand is bleedin',” Murdock said sadly. And true enough, BA's knuckles were bruised and bleeding from the impact with the wall.

BA put a hand on the pilot's shoulder, yanking him in close. “Murdock, we been over this, alright? I like you. We need you. I need you... to do stuff like you do. Okay?”

Murdock's lip quivered again, and he turned his face away once more. “But flying is the only thing about me that matters, Bosco.”

“No, it ain't,” BA growled, then pulled the smaller man into a hug. He figured this would be easier if he didn't have to stare into those fucking guilt-tripping puppy dog eyes all the time. “You know when I'm waking up after being drugged and you help carry me off the plane? That matters.

“When that crazy sucker Hannibal gets us bust up 'cause he's on the jazz and you come in with air support? That matters, too,” BA said. His throat felt as if things had died in it, but Murdock's eyes were still glistening with unshed tears, so he supposed he was under some sort of obligation to go on. That was the excuse he was using, anyway.

“And you know what matters when we're alone, right?” he went on.

Murdock pushed back a little to look up at the darker man, and at that moment, Bosco Baracus was insanely thankful that there was nobody else in that dim public toilet. If there had been, he wouldn't have been able to lean down and kiss Murdock softly, gently, like the pilot needed.

“Bosco,” Murdock whispered. “Do you love me?”

Fuck, there it was again. Those words that BA didn't really feel comfortable saying, even though he supposed they were true on some level. But hardened soldiers just didn't say those things. At least not to each other.

“Well, I...”

Ah, shit, the waterworks again.

“I hate your flyin',” BA growled. “And I hate your anti-freeze marinade, and I hate the fucking sock-puppets. But you know I can't do this shit without you, fool.”

Murdock threw himself at the sergeant, then, head-first into his massive chest.

“I love you, Bosco.”

BA sighed, and hugged Murdock back. “I love you too, HM. But I ain't gettin' on no plane, even for you.”


End file.
